Wrong Side of the Door
by Go On Then
Summary: Bombalurina has had a hard time of it in her short life, but she takes her knocks without flinching. Rum Tum Tugger is a quiet, irritable young tom who's still working on growing into himself. Both learn to get what they need with a seductive swagger, and both are resigned to taking what they can get when it comes to love. Full cast of characters, Bombalurina/Tugger centric.
1. One: Bombalurina and Demeter

A/N:This story will contain some mature themes, but nothing too terribly explicit on any count. Just a heads up.

* * *

Demeter had always been the sensitive one.

When they were kits and their mother had died, hit by a vehicle while crossing the street to search for better hunting ground, it was Demeter who had wept into Bombalurina's shoulder and Bombalurina who had suppressed her own tears and shock in order to comfort her hysterical sister. They sat together behind a rubbish bin for some time; Deme hiding her eyes against Bomba's increasingly soaked fur and Bomba staring silently at the broken body being ignored by humans as the street lamps glinted against the slowly expanding spill of dark liquid on the cobblestones. Bomba had taken slow and steady breaths, stroking her sister's ears and thinking of her mother's gentle paws which had soothed them to sleep and provided for them in the harsh atmosphere of an overcrowded city. Her paws had protected them from the other strays that had lurked in dark corners and the Pollicles that couldn't abide the smell of a cat. They were on their own then.

They got by. It was difficult, _so difficult._ They hadn't yet developed the skills that they would need to survive. They were both small and unpracticed hunters, living off of what scraps they could find littering the streets and anything already dead on the walkways. Luckily, other alley cats hadn't yet found them much of a threat due to their age and left them largely alone. They hid amongst trash heaps and inside of condemned buildings, never staying in a single place too long, just in case someone unfortunate decided to take interest.

As they grew, things changed. They became more adept in the ways of mousing, though remained rather consistently underfed. The older they were, the more trouble they found in the narrow spaces between buildings, territorial cats swiping at them from the shadows and charging at them for the audacity of crossing their path. The sisters were quick, but not always quick enough to escape injury.

One dim evening as they were attempting to scale a dumpster in the hopes of finding something to fill their desperate bellies, they were cornered. A large and roughened tom had pinned them, hissing and spitting, into a tight corner between the dumpster and the brick siding of the building it rested against. Bombalurina had stood, facing the tom and hissing, as she pushed her sister down and against the wall, hiding her from the unsheathed claws on the paw that reared back with the intent to strike. The tom had hesitated for a moment and Bombalurina saw his eyes narrow as they raked over the sleek new curves of her nearly-grown body. In that moment, she made a decision. She pushed down once more on Demeter's head as she took a small step away from the wall, curving one shoulder up and looking at the tom beneath the alert whiskers on her brow. He retracted his paw and stared at her warily, baring his teeth and yet leaning closer. Bombalurina paused for only a heartbeat in fear and in hope before sliding a paw up her hip and through the disheveled fur of her abdomen, smirking slightly and arching her back.

Rough paws gripped her arms and spun her to face the dumpster. The pressure was overwhelming and immediate, and Bomba gasped with the urgency of the sensation. She managed to turn her face in Demeter's direction, only to see her sister staring at her with a look of disgust before silent tears overcame her and she buried her face in one arm, curling up and making herself as small as possible.

Bombalurina cried. She cried for her sister, trembling and sickened. She cried for her mother whom she could not mourn for the fear of what her weakness would cost them. Bombalurina cried, for the first time, for herself; for her pain, for her body now made another tool of survival, for all of the tears that she had wanted to shed but held back in order to remain strong for Demeter.

When it was over and the tom had slunk off, Bomba grabbed her sister a bit too roughly by the arms and hauled her up, pushing her stumbling form away from the scene to find shelter. They crawled underneath a crumbling building, Demeter all the while very carefully not meeting Bomba's eyes. Bombalurina had felt her stomach tie itself into knots, and was hurt that her one comfort in this of all times had turned away from her.

They sat in silence for a time before Demeter curled up in the dirt to seek rest. Bomba considered giving her space, but they had never slept apart and she couldn't stand the idea of lying on the cold ground that night without her sister's soft fur and familiar scent by her side. She carefully crept up to Deme's crumpled body and lay gently beside her, touching only her forehead to the back of her shoulder. Demeter stiffened when she felt the contact before slowly easing back into Bomba's chest. After only a minute or two, Bombalurina felt Deme's torso hitch and knew that the smaller queen was crying again. She laid a soft paw against her shoulder and rubbed small, soothing circles into the fur there, and Demeter reached out and pulled Bomba's arm further around herself while turning into her sister's neck.

They lay like that through the night, neither of them achieving much sleep. In the morning, as the sun peeked through the cracks in the building's foundation, there was a quiet discomfort between them. Nevertheless, they emerged from their night's hideaway to search for a meal with paws clasped tightly together even as the oppressive silence hung overhead and fatigue lingered in their eyes.

The moment that Demeter looked up and held her gaze, Bombalurina knew that they would be alright. Never the same, perhaps, but they could get through this. Her heart ached with the need to break just a little, to grieve for the loss of the only innocence that she'd had left and let her sister cradle her and soothe her with reassuring words and compassion. That wasn't the way that it would go, though. She needed to show resilience, to be strong for the both of them. Bombalurina was cool and unaffected, because she had to be.

Because Demeter was sensitive, Bombalurina was tough. She had no other option.

* * *

AN: Hey guys, so I'm not sure how active this fandom still is. The only other which I've written for (separate account) was Labyrinth. Although I haven't posted anything there for several years, I know that its still thriving due to the influx of new stories and the fact that I _still_ get reviews on stories that I posted more than a decade ago. I've never steeped myself in CATS fandom before- always loved it, but was never sensitive to the relationships that were presented for interpretation through the subtle movement during the musical when I watched it as a youngster. We'll see how it goes. I'll be posting it until it's finished regardless of whether some kind of audience appears or sticks with it, but it'd be nice to see some interaction.

Onward ho!


	2. Two: Tugger and Munkustrap

Rum Tum Tugger looked out over the junkyard, feeling a bit sorry for himself. He twitched his nose and extended a paw to scratch his ear, watching the other toms his age roughhouse down below. It wasn't that he was jealous— _most certainly not!—_ but there was the odd occasion, every so often, _like now, for example,_ that he did wish the other cats would pay him a bit more attention. He looked down at his scrawny, gangly body and wondered if perhaps he weren't so awkward, or if the little tufts of fur that were sprouting around his neck would just grow into a nice, full ruff already, or if he didn't trip over his own paws so much, or if he didn't speak so quietly when he was nervous or maybe were better at keeping eye contact or… something, then maybe he would be a little bit more popular. Maybe he would have friends and his stupid older brother wouldn't be so horribly _thoughtful_ and stay behind sometimes to keep him company even though his stupid friends were calling him to play. Tugger sighed. He was _pathetic._

He really wished that he didn't care so much. Maybe if he didn't care, he wouldn't get so excited the second someone looked his way and start stuttering and babbling all at once. That did tend to spoil things. It was just so _hard_ not to turn into an overeager buffoon the moment he felt wanted. Munkus only made things worse, trying so hard to make him feel like he wasn't left out. He was so _stupid_ and _kind_ and _protective_ and _worried_ about his little brother that he just ended up highlighting the alienation that Tugger felt. He knew the others saw through it. He saw it in the little huffs and the way they rolled their eyes when they didn't think he was looking, how they left Munkus behind whenever he gave them _that look_ which meant that he was staying with _poor, pathetic little Tugger_ that day. _Great Everlasting_ , but he hated it.

A noise from the steep side of the junk pile he sat on made Tugger jump and pulled him away from his seething self-pity for a moment. "Oh, Tu-ugger! Rummy Tummy Tug! I've found something for yooou!"

Munkustrap was climbing steadily, something shiny slung over his shoulder. Tugger wore a sour expression and did his best to ignore his brother, but his eyes were inevitably drawn to the glint of silver that flashed in the sunlight with each movement of a grey shoulder. Tugger glared and remained silent as Munkus crested the hill, swinging up from an old stockpot that protruded from a small ridge.

Munkus held the shiny object towards Tugger, wearing a big, goofy grin on his face. "Here," he said, shaking his paw up and down a bit, making the little specks of light that reflected at his feet dance.

"What is it?" Tugger asked, doing his very best to sound bored even as his heart sped up and his paw flicked out involuntarily to swat at one of the sparkles that performed little pirouettes on the refrigerator door he was using as a perch.

"It's a belt! I found it for you. I mean, it's sort of just part of a belt, but you can poke holes in it and then you could still wear it!"

Tugger watched him with wary eyes, slowly extending a paw to grasp the offering. He brought it close to his face, looking down at it and running one finger over the shiny studs. Just as he began to soften and let his guard down a little, Munkus sat down next to him and poked the dangling end of the strap with a sad expression.

"I just—I know how much you like shiny things, and I thought that maybe if you had something around your waist you'd be a little less self-conscious about how skinny you are and—"

Tugger looked up quickly, his eyes flashing with indignation and a sneer curving his lip. "I am not!"

"Well, I mean—I just thought that—"

"I'm going home, Munku. Just go play with your _friends."_

"No, wait! Tugger, I just—" Munkustrap stopped, taking a deep breath and picking up the belt that Tugger had thrown down as he stomped off towards their father's den. His brother was _so difficult_. He was just trying to be nice to him, really, but he knew that Tugger needed his patience. He wasn't going to stop trying just because he lashed out sometimes, out of frustration, or out of the loneliness that he tried so hard to hide. It was all the more reason for Munkustrap to be there for him, to be a constant presence, unwilling to leave him behind.

That evening, after Tugger had come in from a romp around the yard practicing his hunting skills and sharpening his claws on the old rug by the gate, he flopped down on his favorite cushion only to be stuck in the back by something rather uncomfortable under his blanket. Annoyed, he reached a paw under the cover and yanked out something hard, pausing when it winked at him in the fading twilight that crept into his corner. He sighed deeply and sat back down, looking to Munkus sleeping quietly on the other side of the overturned crate. He clutched the belt as he curled up on the now-soft cushion, regretting his temper. Munkustrap was a good brother.

The following days found Tugger with the studded belt swung around his pelvis, sometimes hiked up so that he could adjust the fastenings and attempt to get the fit right. The subtle change in his appearance heralded the start of a larger shift in his attitude. He swayed his hips a bit more, catching the sunlight and taking pleasure in the way that all of a sudden more eyes were drawn to him, more young queens gazed at his movements with rapt attention. He smiled easily and took on more the presence of a laissez-faire loner than an isolated and withdrawn youth. He was still thin and a bit clumsy, but he didn't seem to mind quite as much.

Munkustrap smiled when he saw his brother adopt his new swagger, much encouraged by the development and so glad that the sadness and the anger had lifted from his eyes. Everything would change now. Everything would be better. Munku breathed deeply and let the relief relax him, hoping fiercely that the change would stick.


	3. Three: Bombalurina and Demeter

Bombalurina sighed dramatically, flicking away banana peels and bits of old newspaper. They'd been scavenging all day with not a scrap of anything edible to show for it. Demeter snorted as she lifted a little felt mouse from the bin, shaking it once and throwing it at her sister's face. Bomba jumped but caught it after a bit of clumsy batting, giggling a little when she saw the stained and ripped toy that Deme had found. "Well now, that _is_ a find, isn't it? Maybe we can eat the stuffing."

Demeter rolled her eyes and continued sifting through the rubbish. They hadn't eaten for a few days and she was getting awfully irritable. It was starting to get cold out, and the rains had been turning slick by morning. Hunting grew scarce in the winters. Bombalurina rubbed a shaky paw against her arm and looked at her foot as something tapped it gently. Her eyes widened and she dove down lightning-quick and scooped up the disoriented little vole. Her claws tightened on her catch and it stopped squirming. "Looky, looky!" she whispered excitedly before extending her paw to Demeter. It wasn't much, but it was more of a solid meal than they'd been able to scrounge up in weeks.

"Oh, Bomby," Demeter sighed. She smiled faintly and continued to dig. "You eat it. You caught it."

"No," Bombalurina said slowly, "I caught it for you." She stuck her paw out further and waved it in front of her sister's face, eyebrows raised.

"Bomby, please. You're always giving me your food. I can find something, you eat it."

Bomba looked at her sister a bit sadly before smirking and holding the rodent up by its little tail. "Ah, poor little dear," she said, eyes gleeful. She lowered it into her mouth and ate it in a single bite. Demeter laughed.

They moved on down the street, picking up tidbits as they sniffed at the aroma of lunchtime in the south of London. Wandering through a park, the two adolescent queens searched for the burrows of small animals and a kindly old woman threw down a bit of chicken from her sandwich as they passed behind her bench.

Bombalurina shivered in spite of the deceptive and unusually bright sun, the chill and a deep sense of unease causing her fur to stand on end.

The mostly pleasant afternoon scavenging with her sister had, somewhere between the shrubbery edging the park walkway and the fence posts that they now stood against, turned quiet and vigilant. Bombalurina turned to her sister to find that she too had felt the shift, her shoulder blades stiff and ears on alert. Bomba looked around them, catching no clues which signaled danger. A shadow passed overhead and both sisters snapped their faces towards the movement but saw nothing.

"What do you say we head up to the roof of that old pub and take a rest?" Demeter suggested, eyes slanted far to the side even as she faced her sister.

"Sure, Deme. That sounds nice." Bombalurina knew that her sister had no intention of resting on the rooftop. Demeter had become savvier with each passing month.

The two made their way to their favorite spot in the area to take a quick afternoon snooze. The pub was on the edge of a street, and getting to the roof required a long, winding trek through back roads and knowledge of the loose boards or curling links in each fence between the hidden lots. It was a relatively safe spot to let your guard down, and they had never seen another living thing besides the odd bird up on that old roof.

When they reached their destination, Demeter made her way to one of the low ledges that ran along the perimeter. This level of the roof was flat, a rim lining the attic which sprouted from the center of the area on which they roamed. She curled up into a tight ball, back against the smooth wall under the rim which guarded her from unwelcome eyes. Bombalurina followed soon after, sliding under the ridge and resting her head on her paws just far enough past the edge of the shelter that she could keep an eye to the rest of the lot.

They stayed there through the afternoon, tension gradually leaving them.

"Bomba," Deme said, "have you ever wondered if maybe we should go somewhere else? Wander a bit farther, maybe find somewhere with more trees?"

"Trees?"

"Well yes, I mean… I always hear the humans talking about somewhere called the _country_ and it seems like such a nice place. Maybe we should try to find it. It can't be too far past the river, can it?"

"I don't know. I thought it was a restaurant."

Demeter laughed. "No, no! It's a place with lots of trees. And _air_."

"Air? _Air?_ " Bomba asked, furrowing her brow and looking at her sister like she'd just proclaimed her love for a pollicle. A big, slobbering, stupid pollicle named Rover or some other ridiculous nonsense.

"Yes. Well, special air. Air that makes you feel good."

"Hmph."

"Look, I know it sounds silly. But… it's different. Don't you ever wonder what it'd be like to go somewhere _different_?"

Didn't she? Of course she did! But what good could it really do them? This was what life was, special air or no. Bomba sighed. "I suppose so, Demeter. But we don't even know where it is, and at least here we know well enough how to find food. I don't know which bins collect the most scraps in the _country_."

Demeter looked at her fidgeting paws, a bit deflated. "Yeah, you're right. Besides, maybe things will be better when we're really adults. We can scare away the other cats. Be real mean queens and build up a reputation. They might call us… the Femme Feline Fatales!"

Bombalurina laughed a bit, squinting one eye at her sister. "Or the Deadly Dames!"

"Murderous Minxes!"

"Seductive Savages!" They fell into a fit of giggles, Bombalurina resting her head on Demeter's knee and looking up at her. Demeter trailed off, unfocussed gaze settling into a wistful somberness as she took a deep breath through her nose and frowned a bit, running her paw through the fur at Bomba's temple.

"What's wrong, Deme?" Bombalurina asked.

Demeter looked at the ground and gave a ghostly half-smile. "I just wish… I wish things had been different."

Bomba sobered and watched the clouds for a moment, finding the shape of a street lamp in one. "Me too," she said softly, tilting her head into Demeter's warm stomach.

They lay like that until the dusty twilight came rolling in, carrying with it tawny golds and vermilion which swirled together like the fine coats of the sisters embracing under its progression. Stars began to flash through the great yawning expanse of evening sky, and a breath of a cloud whispered across the crescent moon. They curled more tightly into one another and settled more deeply into their shelter for the long night, wondering what it might be like to lead a different sort of life.


	4. Four: Tugger and Mistoffelees

Noon was high and the yard was full of cats sprawled out and dozing in the sun-kissed patches, allowing the warmth to penetrate their coats and the soft breeze to tickle their whiskers. Today had so far been a welcome reprieve from the morning frosts and frigid air which had them all retreating to their dens and snuggling into their blankets for warmth.

While their little village was sleeping, Tugger was having a peaceful day circling the yard and watching the pigeons. He leaned up against the chain link fence and stared as the birds flitted from the ground to a low gutter or a lamp post, softly cooing and bobbing their smooth grey heads.

Tugger squinted a bit and lowered his head in concentration as he heard a commotion in the distance, metal clattering and some human shouting. He saw a blur of red and gold, feet kicking out behind them and the tip of an autumn-colored tail disappearing around a corner. He laughed a bit to himself and turned back to the pigeons. One of them flapped a wing and shat.

"Oh, come on now. Didn't even wait for a hat to ruin."

On down the street, he spotted a child on a bicycle with something very sparkly in the spokes of one wheel. Mesmerized, he started making his way down to the far side of the fence to investigate. Tugger stepped onto a tarp and felt his foot sink into something yielding and frankly, quite wiggly. It squeaked.

"Ouch!"

"Ouch?" Tugger replied, lifting his foot.

It started crying.

"Oi, who's under there?" he asked, finding the edge of the tarp to lift it. The little lump shivered, and as Tugger drew the coarse canvas back he revealed the sniveling form of a small black kitten. "Hello, hello! Who're you, then?"

The little thing sniffled again, wiping one white-socked paw across his dripping nose. "I'm lost. Well, not lost. They just didn't want me. And I'm cold and I'm hungry and my mother is gone and this big thing was chasing me and I came here to hide but then you _stepped_ on me and now I— I—I'm—" he started taking big, quick, gasping breaths that halted his speech and dissolved back into tears.

"Hey, alright, alright then, don't do that, now," He whispered a little frantically, hands hovering over the hysterical kit, not quite knowing what to do. "Here, let me, um," and he scooped the little body into his arms, cradling it a bit awkwardly but securely. "I'll find you something to eat, and- and a blanket."

Tugger crept back into the main area of the junkyard, petting the small head tucked into his shoulder and making soothing noises, hoping desperately that he wouldn't catch anyone's attention and be seen _cuddling_ a baby cat. He slipped into his family's thankfully empty den and laid the crumpled bundle gently onto his usual cushion, tucking his own blanket securely around his charge. "I'll be right back. Let me find a mouse or something."

"But… how long will you be gone?" the kitten asked, apprehensive gaze peeking out from the blanket he was buried in. He nuzzled his nose into the folds of the material, looking up at a shy angle.

"Not long, I promise. I'm an excellent hunter," Tugger replied, waggling his eyebrows and giving the tiny tom an exaggerated wink.

"Oh," he laughed, "Alright then. But, um, you'll come back, right?"

"I just said that I would. Besides, you're lying on my bed," Tugger said, one long finger pointed at the pillow.

"Oh. Right, um, okay."

Big, wide eyes watched him as he left the den, making him feel both warm and uncomfortably responsible at the same time.

* * *

Tugger made quick work of tracking down quite a plump rat. He returned to the den without much delay, feeling very proud of himself. The kit was lying still in the same spot that he'd left him in, nearly asleep. Tugger nudged him a little with one finger when he approached the pillow, and the fluffy young cat startled and chirped. "Here," Tugger said, handing him the rat.

The kitten took it gratefully, chewing on it with enthusiasm. "So what's your name, kit?" Tugger asked, watching him gnaw on the rodent that was nearly half of his size.

"Oh, um… well, the humans didn't give me one, but my mother called me Mistoffelees," he replied quietly, pausing from his meal and looking down at the ground while his shoulders tucked up near his ears.

"Well then, little Mister Mistoffelees. I'm Rum Tum Tugger." Tugger looked at his paws and thought for a moment. It occurred to him that Mistoffelees probably didn't have any place to go, or anyone to care for him at all. He glanced sidelong at the wispy black fur and the tiny, twitchy nose. "I could ask my father if you might stay in the junkyard. We have a whole village of cats here."

"Oh! Really?" Big amber eyes lit up, but suddenly shifted into worry and sadness. "I don't want to be a bother, though. I know that nobody really wants me around," he said, sniffing once and twitching his tail.

"Nonsense. The yard is full of strays, and Jellylorum's just found out she's due for a litter. The new kittens will need someone to play with, you know."

Mistoffelees smiled shyly and tucked his chin into his chest. "Okay," he said, eyes bright again as he thought of having playmates and maybe… maybe a family to love him. He slowly brought the rat back up to his mouth and bit into it distractedly, wondering if Rum Tum Tugger might be his new brother. When he'd eaten so much that he thought his small stomach might burst, he gave the nearly-whole rat to his companion and curled up in the bed, head and one paw resting against Tugger's leg.

Tugger ate the rest of the rat and stared down at the kitten. Blast it, but he really had to admit to himself that the kit was cute. Not that he'd _tell_ anyone that, mind.

He rested a paw on the young cat's back, stroking his baby-soft fur and listening to the small purr that rose up to his ears. Tugger sighed as an oddly strong wave of affection swept through him. He took a moment to listen carefully, ears perked, to the noises outside. Once he was certain that no one was close by or headed in his direction, he slowly lowered himself to the cushion and curled around the small warm body, continuing to stroke the little ball of fluff that then snuggled more deeply into his side.

Tugger relaxed and after a short time felt himself drift towards sleep. Just before his consciousness dimmed, he realized that he was purring.

* * *

Munkustrap crossed the yard in deep thought. He wondered if he was suitable for the role that his father had announced he would take on once he was old enough, if he really could protect the tribe. In the three weeks since he had been told, Munkus had been very solemnly considering what attitude he should adopt about it, how detached or involved he should be within the community, if he was too old now to play tumble fighting with his friends. Of course he was. Why, he was practically an adult now! No time for kittenish games and careless giggling. He had to practice vigilance, and true combat, and—storytelling! Yes, of course he had to practice his storytelling. If he wanted to be seen as an authority on anything, he had to be seen as an authority on tribe lore.

So deep in thought was he that Munkustrap walked directly into an old shoebox and stumbled over its side, falling into the paper container. With one back paw sticking straight up into the air, he stayed still for a moment. _Grace_ , he thought, _definitely have to work on being a bit more graceful._ _And observant._

He pulled himself free of the box and regained composure. Much more _observantly_ , he continued walking back to his family den. He climbed up to the ledge where it rested and pulled himself through the opening in the side of the wooden crate, shuffling over to his bed. Munkus let out a soft _ouf_ when he flopped down, stretching out and kneading at his blanket. All this thoughtful consideration had made him a bit tired. He circled around, flattening and fluffing before settling on his side facing the middle of the room. Just as he took a deep breath and started closing his eyes, he spotted his brother on his own bed, holding a fluffy little kitten.

A _kitten_? Munkustrap sat up quickly, staring. He coughed softly, and whispered, "Tugger? _Tugger._ "

Tugger shifted a bit and gave a grunt, clutching more tightly to the baby curled up on his chest.

" _Tugger_!" Munkustrap said more loudly, and his brother jumped a little and glanced at him, suddenly alert. He looked slowly at the kitten that was currently pinning him to the bed with soft snores and adorable, squeaky sighs, and very carefully shifted the small form back onto the bed to extricate himself.

"Um, yes?"

"What are you doing with a kitten? Where did it come from?"

"Well, ah, you see, I found him."

"You found him."

"Yes, I stepped on him."

"You _stepped_ on him? Tugger what is the matter with—"

"No, no, it was an accident! He was hiding, and I _accidentally_ stepped on him." Tugger fidgeted anxiously, "He's lost. Or, well no, he was tossed out by his humans. He hasn't got any place to be."

"Oh," Munkus said, feeling pity for the little kit. It was tough to be abandoned, especially so young.

"Anyway, I was going to ask father if we could keep him—er, you know, if the village would take him in," Tugger shifted awkwardly, unconsciously stroking the small tail by his leg.

Munkustrap looked at Tugger, nodding in understanding. His brother was obviously already attached to the little tom, though Munkus knew he wouldn't admit so. "Do you know his name?"

"Mistoffelees," Tugger said absently, staring blankly with his brow furrowed.

"Well, I'm sure father will understand. It's hard to turn away a cat so young."

Tugger nodded and laid back down, staring up at the top of their den and remaining silent, the back of one paw distractedly playing with downy midnight fur. Munkustrap curled back up for his nap, suddenly not quite so sleepy. He stared at his littermate for a long while before curling in properly and taking his rest.

* * *

A/N: Character development! (Incrementally) longer chapters! Baby Mistoffelees (d'aww)! Huzzah! And we trudge on through.


	5. Five: Unexpected Kindnesses

"I just don't know," Jennyanydots said, "These young ones need something to do. Something to aspire to."

"Well, perhaps. But young cats also need a bit of _freedom_ , m'dear. Room for a little bit of tumble and mischief! You remember us at that age, don't you?" Skimble tapped his mate with a shoulder, pressing his cheek against her neck and tickling her with a breath and a low coo. She allowed herself a chuckle and kissed his brow before trying to wave him off, but he tickled her ribs and pulled her closer to his chest, growling suggestively.

"Oh! You incorrigible thing," she squealed, tapping his shoulder in feigned outrage, "I'm scandalized!"

"Aye, right little miscreants, we were! Stealing off to the shadows every chance we got, sneaking out at night for a quick snog by the fence. You were saucy little lass then."

"Hush, you!"

"Letting one handsome young stray in particular flip yer tail a time or two, if I remember correctly…"

Jenny gasped, putting a paw to her chest and shushing him with breath halted by the giggle that she was not entirely successful at suppressing. "Oh, Skimble. Were we ever really that young?" she sighed, looking once again at the not-quite-grown cats in the clearing. Several were climbing up and down junk piles, flipping smaller items over the edges and aiming them at each other. Alonzo was bumped in the head by an old can opener and rolled down dramatically, legs stiff and pointing at the sky. "My, my. Glance in that direction, dear," she said softly, pointing to a shady spot in the corner.

Skimble looked to where she had indicated, spotting Cassandra arching her back coyly towards Rum Tum Tugger, who had one thumb tucked into his belt and was trying very hard to look disinterested and failing spectacularly.

"Young love in the making?" he wondered aloud, raising his eyebrows and looking down at Jenny.

"Perhaps, perhaps," she responded, hiding a smile behind one paw.

* * *

Tugger glanced at Cassandra again. She was stretching sinuously, pushing her body towards him. It definitely made him feel a bit funny. He wanted to say something to her, but every time he looked her way she turned her head and ignored him which made the confidence that he'd worked up while basking in her attention falter. She flicked her tail and flopped down, reaching her paws out as though she was getting ready for a nap, and her back foot brushed his. This made him jump, and he looked down with frustration.

What was she _doing_? It was driving him crazy, and he wasn't much sure if he liked it. She'd never paid him any mind in the past and he'd never cared for her either, but the shape of her long legs and the cords in her slim neck were much more intriguing than they'd ever been and it made him want to investigate a great deal more closely. Tugger narrowed his eyes as she stared in the direction opposite of him. This wouldn't do.

Huffing, he pushed himself off of the tire he'd been leaning on and turned on his heel to walk away. _If she wanted to toy with him, he'd ignore her right back._ He heard Cassandra shift quickly behind him in a way that suggested that she was startled or upset when he stared walking away, and then a soft, indignant growl came from her direction. Tugger smirked. Oh, that was better. Much better. He sauntered away, stretching his shoulders out to define what lithe muscle he had. It wasn't much, but after her reaction he was feeling slinky and a bit wicked. He fluffed out his short, still slightly uneven mane and deliberately swung his hips, then readjusted his belt in an eye-catching way as he walked. He heard Cassandra stomp away, and held his head higher as the other toms watched on with curiosity and perhaps even a touch of envy.

* * *

Bombalurina was tired. Exhausted, really. Why had they come here? She slumped in her seat and stared at her sleeping sister. All the hard work that she'd done to protect them—everything that had hurt her heart and made Demeter turn from her even though _she knew_ that Bomba was doing it for them, for their safety—was that really any worse than this?

They were fed and they were warm. _That_ was why they had agreed to come. The tall, thin ginger tom had followed them into an alleyway and propositioned Demeter. He offered food, a permanent bed and safety.

 _Safety._ Life off of the streets. A blanket to curl into sheltered from the harsh winter.

Unfortunately, not all that was promised was given. Demeter had looked to Bombalurina with scared eyes, but Bomba saw the moment that her resolve solidified. If Bomba could do it, then so could she. She could provide for the both of them with this fraction of the cost that her sister had paid. One tom, after all, was nothing compared to the countless nights that Bombalurina had spent degrading herself for both of their sakes. Demeter had said yes.

Bombalurina had been relieved. She felt ashamed now for that.

And so she sat, ashamed, examining the bruises and claw marks that decorated her sister's skin beneath the ruffled fur. She looked down at her own damaged wrists and felt her own swollen eye, held too tightly and hit too hard when she had tried to defend the golden queen who was her life and only comfort. She had to find a way for them to get out.

Bomba heard the scrape of the barricade outside of the door being moved, and knew that he was coming in. He always came in at this time of night.

Demeter startled at the noise, eyes wide, and Bomba motioned her to pretend that she was still sleeping. Sometimes this worked and sometimes it didn't, but she would always try. Macavity was violent, even in passion. He preferred timid, frail Demeter—preferred the look of fear or emptiness in her eyes—but sometimes when he was in the right mood Bomba would do. She withstood his rages for her sister when she could.

Macavity tromped through the doorway, growling as he went. He stood by Demeter's feet, glaring, and started to reach for her. Bombalurina stood, rushing over and rubbing herself against his side.

He shoved her off with one arm, but Bomba persisted. She grabbed at him again, crooning his name and digging a few claws into his hip. Sometimes if she got a bit rough with him he would turn on her in anger and decide to have his way with her as punishment.

Not tonight. He shoved at her harder, swiping a paw across her face and knocking her into the sharp corner of a wooden pallet. Bomba hissed and grabbed at her cheek, the sting of shallow cuts startling her. She pulled her hand away to realize that they were seeping blood, but she had no time to tend to them.

Demeter shrieked as Macavity wrenched her to the edge of the cushion by her foot, a sickening pop making him laugh as she cried out.

Bombalurina moaned. This was too much. It was always too much, but this time she couldn't stand it another second. She glanced down and spotted a glint of metal, swept under a dresser with other bits of rubbish. She crawled towards it as quietly as she could, ignoring the cries of anguish that were making her shake with despair and wrathful determination. Bomba reached through the dust and old newspapers, pulling the steel dowel from its resting place. She hopped up and ran at Macavity from an angle out of his view, raising the rod above her head and crashing it down onto his with as much force as she could muster. He yelped and turned on her, eyes glinting with murderous temper.

He lunged at her, but Bomba was quick. She rolled under his outstretched arm and brought the dowel up into his ribs, then over his head again as he failed to catch it. She felt more than heard the solid _thunk_ as it connected with his skull and he collapsed to the floor, still conscious but slowed. She raised her weapon again and again, beating down on his back, his neck, his head as she screamed tearfully. Demeter's hand made contact with her arm, and Bombalurina looked to her sister, balancing gently on one foot with tear tracks on her cheeks. She dropped the rod to her side, letting it land on the seemingly now-unconscious tom at her feet.

Macavity groaned and tried to push himself up with one arm but collapsed again. He shook his head just a little, and Bomba grabbed Demeter by the arm and lifted her off of her damaged ankle and over Macavity's legs, scrambling for the door.

I was still unblocked, and Bomba rushed them out and into the shadowy corridor before one of the minions heard them and Demeter limped at her side, struggling to keep up despite the pain that throbbed through her leg. The door to the outside world was in sight, slightly open. A cold breeze was wafting through it, curling more tightly around them the closer they got. Macavity screamed.

They moved as quickly as they could to the door, barely making it out before hearing Macavity yell orders to his henchmen to follow. Frantic steps ran their way, and Bomba, filled with adrenalin, lifted the smaller queen outright and sprinted for an open ally way, looking for trod patches of ground where the footprints that she was sure they left in the snow would not be so visible.

They ran for a long time, Bombalurina feeling every excruciating minute as though time had slowed and quickened at once. Her panic gave her strength, and she held fast to her sister as she dodged human legs on the city street.

In the distance, she saw a junkyard. Perhaps if she could get them there, they might find safety for the night. It was far enough away, their pawprints were thoroughly muddled, and the junk might hide their scent. It was worth trying, because Bomba was growing too tired, her ribs too sore from where they had hit the pallet. She would collapse soon if they didn't stop somewhere.

She put Demeter down less carefully than she intended once they reached the fence, her arms shaky and fatigued. The gate was locked, and so they crept along the perimeter pulling at the links in hope of finding a loose bit at the base or by a pole. Finally, behind a shrub, Deme managed to pull back a section and waved Bomba over. Bombalurina held the fence up for her sister as she crawled through and then ducked under herself. She set the shrub to rights and patted down the fence, burying the bent ends in the dirt in an attempt to disguise the way through.

They stumbled over junk and searched wearily for a place to collapse, somewhere enclosed and well-hidden. A rustle caught their attention and both queens stiffened, suddenly alert again.

"Ahoy there! State your business!"

Demeter backed up a few steps in surprise, tripping on something and falling back into a small ditch. Bomba scrambled to help her up and escape, but her tired arms and Deme's hurt leg worked to slow them down far too much. The adrenalin high had worn off, and the both of them were sluggish and feeling their injuries acutely.

"Wait! It's alright, we won't hurt you," Said a gentle voice, the mature tortoiseshell tom holding out his paws in a disarming manner.

"Stay back!" Bomba cried, one paw out as if to ward the slowly approaching cats off.

"Alright, little miss. I won't come any closer. My name is Asparagus Junior. This here is Munkustrap," he tipped his head to indicate a young grey tabby to his left who was watching them with wide eyes, "and that one there is Skimbleshanks. I can see that you're hurt. We'd like to help you."

"Aye, me own mate is a mighty fine one for tending an injury." Skimble said, tipping his head in a sideways nod and looking at them brightly. He smiled at the sisters and said, "She's awfully sweet at that, I think you bonnie kits would like her. She'd like you, I can tell ye'."

Bombalurina furrowed her brow, looking to Demeter. How long had it been since they'd had an older queen care for them? After mother they'd met only hostility, indifference or an occasional glance of pity. She felt something well up inside of her, suddenly longing for a comforting paw wrapped around her and a warm, feminine belly to snuggle into.

Deme spoke first. "We just needed a place to stay for the night; we don't want to be any bother."

"Well that's fine, dear girl, that's just fine. But if you're going to stay the night you may as well let Miss Jenny have a look at you," Asparagus said, his tone soothing and his eyes friendly.

"I'm Demeter," she said, "And this is Bombalurina, my sister."

Bomba looked at each of their faces, and paused on the tom that had been quiet up to that point. He looked solemnly at her and her sister, back straight and ears alert. "You should let us help," he said. "The tribe is very welcoming, and Miss Jenny is very kind. She'll take good care of you."

Bomba nodded, looking down. "Thank you. We don't have anywhere else to go right now."

"No worries, dear one. It's a difficult thing to wander the streets. No one should have to be out alone on a night like this," Asparagus said. "It's settled, then. We'll take you on to Jenny."

Skimble moved forward with careful steps and put a paw down to Demeter in order to help her up. Bombalurina watched warily as she responded by offeringing her own small paw, whimpering a little when Skimble pulled her to her feet. Realizing her predicament, he lifted her slowly and nodded for Bomba to follow as they all moved towards the clearing in the junkyard. Munkustrap walked next to Bomba, giving her quiet support as they trekked.

* * *

Later, as the oppressive darkness of night was just starting to lift and twilight whispered against the stars, Bombalurina found herself watching her sister try to drift off to sleep once again. Jennyanydots had cleaned and dressed their wounds, splinted and wrapped Deme's fractured ankle, and was now sleeping soundly with one protective arm draped over them both.

Bomba snuggled more deeply into the soft blanket, rubbing a cheek on Miss Jenny's arm. She really was kind, and Bomba hadn't realized just how _badly_ she had wanted someone matronly to fuss over her. She was so tired of being strong.

Deme shifted, her eyes half open. She looked at her sister for a long moment, then looked away and whispered, "You know, Bomba…"

"Yes?"

"At the beginning… I thought I could have loved him."

Bomba closed her eyes and grasped her sister's paw, letting a few tears escape her before settling into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.

* * *

A/N: This is probably about the worst of the depressing bits.

Also, thanks to Quiffin and Humanguineapig for dropping a few reviews. It certainly is encouraging! My audience seems to be small, but I do so appreciate them. Much love.


	6. Six: Tugger and Bombalurina

The next morning held an air of anticipation in the junkyard, as whispers of new arrivals had been passing from ear to ear. Tugger, having resolved to not allow anyone to see him care too much about or pay too much attention to anything and therefore shape his future image into one of a very, _very_ cool cat, was wandering about the yard and not asking _anyone_ about the news. His curiosity did not allow him, however, to remain out of earshot from the gossip.

He sighed gustily looking up and around at the birds, the clouds, the tops of the junk heaps, his meticulously groomed claws, _Cassandra's stupid legs that made his stomach grow tight and oh dear don't look at that_ , Alonzo's stupid legs tapping nervously against a bin lid and producing quite an annoying sound ( _not_ because it made the hushed words spoken on the other side of the yard more difficult to hear), anything but the faces of the other cats having animated conversations near him which he would absolutely not admit to listening very intently to.

"No, no. Munkustrap said that there were two. Two queens, and that they were hurt."

Tugger tensed. Why was he suddenly more interested because they were queens? He ran a couple of fingers through his mane, trying to stretch the short patches and make them look more even with the rest.

"How were they hurt? Were they chased by a pollicle? Slipped on the ice?"

"I don't know, stupid. How am I supposed to?"

"Oi, now! No need to be such a snarky prat about it." Rumpleteazer cuffed her brother upside the head to more thoroughly punctuate her remark, and Tugger shifted and coughed to stifle his amused snort.

"You little rat face! What'd you go and do that for?" Mungojerrie shot back, rubbing his head and pushing her away with a hind paw.

"Don't you push me, you snarky little prat!" She replied, squirming back from his foot just to lean forward and clip his shoulder before shoving him onto his back. In an instant, Rumpleteazer had jumped up and was sitting on her brother's chest, smacking him repeatedly while he flailed to push her off of him.

"Teazer, you great twit! Get off of me!"

"Not until you say it!"

"I'll get you, you fat-mouthed, cross-eyed, stupid, smelly, rat-faced little…"

"Say it!"

"No!"

" _Say it!_ " Rumpleteazer jammed a heel into Mungojerrie's ribs, producing a rather high-pitched yelp and a frustrated growl from the tom wriggling beneath her.

"Ouf- Princess Rumpleteazer the Great is very kind and generous and is much smarter and better looking than her stinky rat-faced brother, Mungojerrie the Dim!"

"Awe, now Jerrie. Mighty kind of you to say so," she said sweetly, patting his cheek just a bit too hard to be pleasant. She ruffled the fur on his head, giggling, as she let him finally push her off of him.

They wandered off, Rumpleteazer in boisterously good spirits while Mungojerrie grumbled and tried to maintain his indignation. Tugger jumped down from his perch and started circling the yard again, looking for another source of entertainment, if not information. He wandered down by Miss Jenny and Skimbleshanks' den, not too close to appear obvious, perking his ears to see if he could detect voices within. A rustling captured his attention, and he did hear whispering. It was far too quiet and muffled for him to make out, but the voice was unfamiliar and he inched just a little bit closer in the hope of catching a few words more clearly.

Suddenly, a head poked through the opening of the den. Tugger jumped and fell back, drawing the attention of the sleek red ears attached to the head that housed the striking brown eyes that then quickly darted to his face and rooted him, paralyzed, to the spot where he had fallen.

The two of them stared at each other, frozen, for a long minute before the red queen's eyes widened and her head jerked back into the den. Tugger scrambled quickly up and dusted himself off with shaking paws as he walked away as quickly as he could without all-out running. He tried to maintain a dispassionate expression and an unhurried gait before acknowledging that for some reason he was too unsettled to do so, instead opting to duck behind a rubbish pile and run far enough away from the clearing that he could be assured that he was alone.

When he stopped he ran a paw over his neck and let out a large huff, sitting heavily on the ground. What was wrong with him? Never had a new face so affected him. He was almost frightened by her, but no. No, what did he have to be frightened of? A scared, injured female? Smaller than him, probably younger by the look of it, just staring at him with big, round, startled eyes? Wide eyes, deep brown and sharp, lovely, alert, beautiful…

What? "No, stop it. Just stop that," he mumbled to himself, tapping his forehead sharply. He took several minutes trying to compose himself and get the image of those eyes out of his head, along with the idea that he might like to see them again, looking at him half-lidded as her scarlet head rested on his shoulder.

* * *

Bombalurina found herself sitting on the floor of Miss Jenny's den, brow furrowed in thought. She had just poked her head out for a second, wanting to take a glance at the yard in the daylight and see if she could spot any of the kind faces that had offered aid to her and her sister, when she was startled by the scuffle of a young tom falling over to the side of her. She was confused.

He'd stared at her as though he were holding his breath, completely still. The moment she'd looked at him he had just stopped. It was a little unnerving for her, and she had no idea why. She remembered his face and his patchy mane. She thought that he mustn't be much older than her if he had a mane that hadn't even completely grown in yet, and for some reason that made her smile. It would be nice for her and Demeter to have friends their own age; they'd spent so long being pushed around in a far too adult world.

It looked soft, his mane. For some reason she couldn't stop wondering if it was as soft as it looked. She'd never had a tom react to her like he had. They'd been rough or dismissive, predatory or leering, and just as of the other night she'd met a few who were kind and paternal towards her. But this one had jumped and fallen over when he saw her, and had looked almost scared. Then, when she'd peeked out again after shaking off her habituated distress at being seen, she saw him scrambling off as quickly as his lean legs would carry him.

Bomba scuffed her toe against the floor. She hoped that she hadn't made a bad impression. Her hand automatically rose to the rough scabs on her cheek. Maybe she'd looked so bad that it had given him a fright. Or maybe he had taken one look at her and realized that she was nothing but a slag, an ally cat that didn't belong here with this village that housed kind souls like Miss Jenny and Skimbleshanks. Maybe he was part of a family that loved him, and was a good, respectable young cat who didn't want to get caught having to speak to _her_ with her scratched up face and her questionable morals and maybe, maybe…

Tears welled in her eyes as she buried her face into her tucked up knees. These cats were being so generous to them and what could they offer? What could they give in return for this hospitality? No one she had met yet seemed to cast judgment on them, but surely that couldn't last. Such nice people couldn't be expected to let them stay. Even though they had only asked to stay the night, Miss Jenny had been speaking to them as though they were new additions to her very own family, and Bomba had started to think about it, to hope. She had started imagining what life could be like if they had a home, and friends. If they had a place that they slept _every single night_ and didn't ever have to go weeks on end digging through rubbish bins, hoping to find the most meager scraps to keep themselves alive for another day, uncertain as to whether they would eat tomorrow. She had wondered what life would be like if somebody loved them.

Jennyanydots came back into the den and saw Bombalurina curled into herself, looking for all the world like a sad little kitten. She stooped down to sit next to the young queen and placed one paw gently on her shoulder, which prompted Bomba to turn her face toward Jenny and stare up at her miserably.

"Whatever is the matter, little one?" she asked, concern in her eyes and comfort in her voice. Bomba shook her head lightly and rolled her eyes at herself. "Come now, let old Jennyany help you find your smile again. Where did you leave it last, hmm?"

Bomba couldn't help herself and gave a pained laugh through her tears. She sniffed and wiped a paw across her nose, then flushed a little when Jenny offered her a cloth to wipe her face on. "I'm sorry, Miss Jenny. I'm just being stupid right now, acting like a kitten."

"No, dear," Jenny clucked, "You are _not_ stupid. You seem like a very bright young thing to me, and I'm sure that if you're feeling a bit vulnerable that you have good right to be. Now," she said, lifting Bomba's head and prompting her with a hand gesture and an example to take a deep breath, "Tell me what's happened to you. You're safe here, and you can't let the wound heal if you leave the dirty old bandages over it to fester."

Bombalurina felt something leave her as she let out her breath. Something heavy and suffocating, something that she'd breathed in on the night that her mother had died. She collapsed onto Jenny's lap with the force of it, and told her everything.

* * *

Tugger laid on his bedding that night, still thinking of the face that he'd seen pop out of Jenyanydots and Skimble's den. He realized after he'd gotten past some of his initial… _feelings_ … that she'd had scratches on her face and a bruise under one eye. He remembered Mungojerrie's words from earlier and decided that he would ask his brother if he knew what had happened; he wasn't going to fool Munkus into believing his aloof persona anyway.

It was late before Munkustrap got to the den. It was really just their den now, since father had decided that they were old enough to take care of themselves by and large. He always had much to do, and spent days wandering the city for reasons that he would never share. Tugger suspected sometimes that the old tom was losing his coherency to age, but would then admonish himself for disrespecting his father even in his own mind. One just did _not_ disrespect Old Deuteronomy. Besides, one look into his warm, dark eyes was enough to convince anyone that a mind as wise and observant as ever could be found lay behind them.

Munkustrap sighed, crawling in through the opening in the crate. He stretched his back out and trudged to his own bed, groaning petulantly as he collapsed. Tugger looked at him, debating on whether or not to even ask what was wrong.

"All day! All day after such a late night, and I'm so _sore!_ " Tugger was a bit surprised at his brother. Munkus never complained. About _anything_. Especially lately, he'd been getting so blasted _serious_ all the time. Munkustrap groaned again, putting his paws over his head and kicking his back legs out a little like he was stomping in the air.

Tugger's eyes went wide. His brother was behaving in a way that he hadn't since they both were about half of their current heights. "Munkus," he said, barking out a quick laugh when all he got in response was a hind paw flicked out at him in a half-hearted kick, "Munkus, what's the matter with you? Why've you gone all silly?"

The grey tabby heaved a heavy sigh then, seeming to attempt to compose himself before sitting up slowly and arranging his face into a much more dignified expression than the one Tugger was quite sure had been on it before he'd pulled himself from the blanket. "I'm sorry. I'm just tired, Rum. There's… there's been a lot I've had to…" Munkus crossed his brow and rubbed his face. "It's just a lot of responsibility training to be the protector of the tribe, and it feels like it's all coming at me at once. I'm just… tired."

Tugger suddenly felt bad for laughing at his brother. He was dealing with a heavy responsibility that Tugger would never be asked to take on. He looked down and kicked the side of the crate a little bit angrily. It wasn't just because Munkus was older. He was only older by a few minutes, really. He'd just always been the better choice. The more responsible one. Tugger was the runt of the litter, and that had always made him self-conscious and ornery, prone to jabbering awkwardness or anger at the slightest bit of scrutiny. Even now that he was growing taller than most of the other toms, he couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place and looked down upon.

"Oh," he said, hating that he could think of nothing more substantial. What could he say to his caring brother, who had a legitimate reason to feel frustrated and was honestly being rather mature now that he'd had just that tiny, private moment of relief from his towering responsibilities? What could he say to him, in the face of his own sulky, kittenish anger at not being the favorite?

"It's alright, Rum," Munkustrap said, sensing his brother's unease with trying to find words of support or comfort, "I'll be fine by morning. What did you do today?"

Tugger looked shamefacedly at his knees, resolving not to bother Munkus with his questions. He didn't need what would probably be an additional reminder of his hard day, and it wasn't like Tugger wouldn't find out eventually. "Not much, really. Wandered around, caught a mouse, kicked something over onto Alonzo's head. The usual."

Munkustrap started letting out stifled, snorting laughter that had Tugger looking up in confusion. Was it because something had hit Alonzo's head? That was a bit funny, but it happened too often to be as funny as whatever he was laughing at was. "You didn't meet anyone today?" Munkus said, his laughter becoming a little breathier and high pitched, but less forceful. He looked at Tugger out of the corner of his eye with his head turned and his brow raised, and Tugger realized that he was referring to the new queen that he'd spotted earlier. His eyes narrowed, and Munkustrap snorted again.

"Because Mungojerrie told me that he saw you trip over yourself when you saw one of the new cats, and that you looked awfully flustered walking away. I don't blame you, they're both very pretty."

Tugger growled and flopped onto his cushion, back facing his brother.

"Oh come on, Rum, don't be like that!"

"Shut it, Munku!"

"A little touchy about it, then? Has she captured your fuzzy little heart?"

Tugger threw his old yarn ball at his brother's head, and then pulled the blanket over his face, determined to ignore Munkus for the rest of the night.

* * *

A/N: Thanks to thatcrazyfangirloverthere for joining the review pool. Appreciate it!

Also, The chapters of this story that I have written are from here on out completely out of order. As in, the _next_ one or two are not written, but the one that probably comes after those is, and then there are a few more like that. So. *shrug*


	7. Seven: Tugger and Bombalurina

He was anxious. So very, very anxious, and even more anxious not to let anyone know just how anxious he was. Tugger leaned on his side in as nonchalant of a pose as he possibly could, stilling his fingers every once in a while when he realized that he was fiddling nervously with his belt. He had been warned— _told_ by his brother that the new cats were going to be introduced to the tribe today. Munkustrap hadn't been sure if they were staying, but they'd been there nearly a week resting and having Miss Jenny tend to them and the Gumbie Cat had been hopeful that they would find their home in the Junkyard.

Tugger jumped a little when a kitten pounced on his uneasily twitching tail.

"Hullo there, Rum Tum!"

"Rum Tum Tugger. And that's _The_ Rum Tum Tugger to you," Tugger said a bit testily.

"Alright, Rum Tum," the little tom said, holding the tail down with his body and batting at the agitatedly flicking tip.

Tugger sighed and narrowed his eyes. It really wasn't good for his reputation to be seen letting a kitten play with his tail. He needed to be aloof and above all this tousling, especially today of all days. He'd already botched his first impression on _her_ and now his only hope was to be so cool that she forgot about their meeting entirely or act so far removed from the _bumbling idiot_ that he'd displayed himself as, falling over and staring dumbly, that she would think that he was altogether a different cat than the one who'd gaped at her and then run away like an _oafish bloody fool…_

Tugger huffed. He wasn't worried. He _wasn't._ What did he have to be worried about? She wasn't important. He didn't even _know_ this queen, for goodness' sake. She was just some cat who'd wandered in from the streets, who might add a number to their little clowder. Nothing at all to be worried about.

"Unghf," Tugger said intelligently as the little cat jumped onto his belly. "Mistoffelees, why don't you go pick on somebody your own size? Jelly's had her litter; they must be at least rolling about and asking to be chewed on by now."

"They're too little. They can't even see me yet!"

"Then go jump on Admetus. He needs a good punch. Have you seen his face?"

"Are you just telling me to play with them because you want me to go away?" Mistoffelees drew up into himself and covered his nose with one paw, looking at Tugger with watery eyes and a slight sniffle. His hind paw dangled by Tugger's ribs and his small belly pooched out.

"Oh blast it, don't do that," Tugger said with a groan, sitting up a bit to maneuver the kit into his lap. Why was this kitten so _sensitive_ about everything, and how could he keep his disinterested composure when the little fluff ball looked at him that way, like his every happiness in the world rested upon Tugger's desire to have him around? Every time Tugger tried to shoo him off he would look at him and his eyes would go big and his nose would run and he just looked so pathetic and what could he even _do_? Tugger sighed again, and reluctantly remembered having his own head patted by his father when he'd felt unwanted.

"Fine, fine," he said distractedly as he scratched a little black ear and listened to the sniffles slowly subside. Tugger took a quick glance around him to see if anyone was looking and then dipped down to rub his cheek against Misoffelees's head and groom him for just a few seconds. He quickly popped up and immediately sat back a bit so as not to look like he was doing anything more than tolerating the affections of an overly attached kit.

"Rum Tum?"

"Yes, what?"

"I just, um. I'm just glad that you can be my brother, that's all."

"Oh," Tugger said, all of a sudden fighting the curiously strong urge to both run away and squish the little cat into his face. He ended up only looking uncomfortable and squeezing him a bit more tightly to his chest.

A quiet burst of excitement on the other side of the yard caught his attention. The new queens were in the clearing now. He could see the unmistakable flashes of scarlet and an unfamiliar shade of gold huddled near Skimbleshanks, and all of the others were looking in the same direction, not crowding them but eager nonetheless. Skimble lead them around introducing them to everyone, Jenny lingering by their side with a calming smile and a paw rested on the golden queen's shoulder to lend ease to her nervousness and help her along on one splinted leg.

"Oh, their fur is pretty!"

"I—what? Well. Yes. I mean, oh! Look at that!" Tugger pointed into the distance at nothing.

"But I don't see anything," Mistoffelees said, staring intently after the direction indicated by the finger.

"Yes, yes I see it. It's a… thing."

"I don't see any things!"

"Just keep looking!" Tugger said, encouraging him to edge towards it.

"But—"

"Why don't you go find it?" Tugger inched Mistoffelees down lower on his legs and then to the ground. He then placed one hind paw on his bottom, scooting him gently away as the small group approached the area where he lounged. Mistoffelees giggled wildly and rushed to climb back on. Tugger pushed him off again. The small cat was very enthusiastic about this new game, and Tugger despaired of regaining his air of insouciance. He considered whether it was less dignified to stay still as Mistoffelees jumped all over him, or endure his only official first introduction while continually shoving the kit away as he laughed maniacally at the great fun that Tugger had unintentionally initiated. He settled on trapping the black kitten under his slightly bent knee, pinning him to the ground and ignoring the breathless hysterics with as straight a face as he could manage.

"Och, and these two here. This is Rum Tum Tugger," Skimbleshanks tipped his head as they approached, "and that wee squirmy one is Mistoffelees. He's a new'un, too. Right trouble makers, the both of them," he said good-naturedly. "Tugger, Mistoffelees, these two girls are our new friends. This is Demeter, and this is Bombalurina."

Demeter waved shyly and Bombalurina stood a bit apprehensively, suddenly ruffling the fur on her face to attempt to better hide the fading scratches. Jenny gave Tugger a look which told him that she expected him to be welcoming and _social_ for once, or he'd get an earful later. He tried to unstick his tongue from the roof of his suddenly dry mouth, but was cut off before he had a chance to speak.

"Hullo," Mistoffelees said, having wormed his way far enough out from under Tugger's leg to peek out at the group. He was blessedly still and gripping Tugger's calf shyly as he looked up. "Do… do you like to play with newspapers? Because I have a whole pile of newspaper that you can play with if you want to. It's _very_ crinkly."

The whole group looked at Mistoffelees, and Tugger was glad for once that the attention was no longer on him. Bombalurina slowly kneeled low to the ground, a hand out to stroke the small tom's head. "I love newspaper. It's very generous of you to offer," she said, her eyes soft and bright. Tugger stared at her face, for the first time able to really look at her. Her coloring was so rich, so vibrant, and her eyes… Tugger let out a slow breath as he stared. Her eyes were so beautiful, but sad, and she looked at Mistoffelees like she was sincerely grateful for his offer of old newspaper down to the very everlasting part of her. Her eyes then turned to him, and he struggled for what seemed to him a very long few moments with his dry, stuck tongue and swallowed painfully.

"H-hello," He said, "I… um."

She waited with a slightly worried look for him to finish his sentence, but he never did. Instead, he stared at her with wide eyes and appeared to once again stop breathing. Very strange, thought Bombalurina. Strange, and yet that stunned look on his face made her want to reach out and sooth his nerves, and the deep blue of his eyes made her want to stare into them a bit longer.

"Well alrighty, then. On we go!" Skimbleshanks was doing an admirable job containing a hearty guffaw and managing a mostly straight face, but his raised eyebrows, pinched lips, and the laughter in his eyes gave him away to his mate. They had both watched the brief exchange with age that had witnessed such afflictions before. Jenny looked pointedly at Skimble as they walked away, noting the way in which Rum Tum Tugger's eyes did not leave Bombalurina, and the flustered way that she looked at her fidgeting paws and then glanced quickly back at him.

Tugger stared. He could not seem to convince his eyes to look down, or away, or to the side, or at anything but her. He stared at her shiny red fur, the slight sway of her hips, and her eyes when they darted back at him. Hopeless, he thought. Something was wrong with him. He was ill.

"Rum Tum?"

"Uh… What?"

"I like them."

"Yes…"

"Ouf!" Mistoffelees had taken his opportunity and wriggled out from under Tugger's leg while he was distracted, jumping once again onto his belly. Tugger lost all of the air from his lungs, and he was not sure if it was the kitten or the scarlet queen that had done it.

* * *

"Stupid, _stupid_ , stupid! I can't believe it. No, actually I can. I'm such an oaf!"

Munkustrap watched his brother pace, paws tugging at his ears and mussing the fur on his head.

"Not even a sentence! 'Um,' I said. 'Um!' She thinks I'm a bloody fool, can't string two words together. 'Oh, yes! There's that poor dullard who can't speak properly and probably drools on himself if he has to scratch an itch in two places at one time. I wonder if he can even feed himself!'" He punctuated the last remark with a swift and clumsy kick at the wall, succeeding only in ruffling himself further.

"Tugger, I'm sure that she doesn't—"

"'Look how that kitten loves him! I bet he makes the little guy feel bright. At least he's good for bolstering the self-esteem of toddlers!'"

"Tugger."

"And this is twice, now. _Twice!_ Twice that I've made myself out as an idiot. I can't even—I can't—" Tugger stopped his pacing in favor of slapping his forehead rather violently with the heels of his palms.

"Tugger!" Munkus stood and grabbed the agitated cat's arms, halting the abuse to his cranium. Tugger looked up finally, glaring. "Stop. I'm sure that she isn't thinking any of those things about you. I don't doubt that she was nervous too, meeting so many new people. She probably was too concerned with everything else to even think much about it." Tugger's glare softened marginally, and he took a breath. "Besides, I doubt that it was even as bad as you think it was—hey!"

"Not that _bad_?!" Tugger yanked his arms out of the grey tabby's paws and resumed his pacing. "Munku, you weren't there. You don't know—I was _this_ close to her face," he held his fingers a scarce distance apart, "and I just stared at her and gaped like a dying fish."

Tugger flopped face first onto his pillow and let out a long, agonized groan. Munkus held back one of his own. There was no dealing with him when he was like this. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Demeter was staring at her sister oddly. "What?!" snapped Bombalurina, irritated at the fact that Deme seemed to be amused at her expense.

"He likes you."

"Who?" Bomba bit the word off as though it had gone sour, but her stomach did a little flip.

"You know. Come on, you _know_. The one with the…" Deme wiggled her fingers vaguely at her neck, smiling a sly little smile.

"Oh, please. He barely wanted to speak to me."

Skimbleshanks tittered from the corner, and Jennyanydots smacked his arm lightly in response.

"Why is this funny? I just want to make a good impression. I'm not used to having friends, this is hard enough without everyone being so entertained by it," Bomba said somewhat glumly. The others sobered at her distress, and Demeter looked at her guiltily.

"I'm sorry, Bomby. I didn't mean to tease you."

"It's alright, Demeter. I just don't know how to do this. I don't know how to be like cats our age are supposed to."

"Oh, you little dears," Jenny said, "there is no 'supposed to.' You do what's right for you. You make friends by talking to the others, sharing in the community. And—there's no doubt about it, that Rum Tum Tugger is growing into a fine, handsome young tom. There's no shame in noticing that."

"Aye, lass. Also no doubt that you've made quite an impression upon him, indeed," Skimble added with a wink, smiling broadly at her. "I can tell you the first time I laid eyes on my lovely Jen here, my tongue was so twisted I feared the rest of my body would just have to spin 'round itself to untie it. By the time I got back to the station, I was so dazed that one of the service attendants decided that he'd need to carry me aboard lest I trip and fall onto the track. Imagine, the train withou' me to oversee the workings! They would've met disaster that day if not for that attendant!"

Bombalurina looked thoughtfully at her paws. What did it mean if a tom like him had an eye for her? She couldn't imagine it. She thought of the grimy paws and unkempt fur of the toms she had… bartered herself to while living on the streets. She didn't know what it was to be wanted in a different way. What other way was there? What could he possibly want from her, if indeed he wanted anything at all?

She had a moment of struggle inside of her own head before admitting that yes, maybe, she did want to be wanted by him. Maybe she wanted to find out what that meant.

As her thoughts lingered on blue eyes and possibilities, she turned her gaze to her sister, curling up comfortably next to Miss Jenny. Demeter looked so content. She looked warm and calm and serene. She looked happy.

Maybe Bombalurina also wanted to stay. Maybe she wanted a home with these cats, in this little junkyard village. Maybe she wanted Jennyanydots to sooth her self-doubt and Skimbleshanks to make her laugh and tell her stories. Maybe she wanted to see her sister really truly smile every single day, because they did not have to live in isolation. Maybe she wanted to stay to find out how soft Rum Tum Tugger's mane was.

Bombalurina smiled to herself. Yes, she wanted to stay. She wanted all of those things and everything else that life here could afford them.

Her decision made, she curled up by her sister to join her in sleep. She would ask Demeter how she felt in the morning.

A bit later as Jenny watched the two sisters rest peacefully, she hugged Skimble and let herself relax. "Darling," she said, "I think that these girls will be fine. Just fine." She smiled happily, and accepted a tender kiss from her mate.


	8. Eight: Tugger and Bombalurina

A/N: Content warning: Fluff. Fluffy, fluffy fluff fluff. Fluffy like a Persian kitten. Have fun.

* * *

There was silence as the aged cat standing before the rest of the tribe raised one steady paw forward in a gesture of quiet preamble. Old Deuteronomy smiled down at the gathered members of his chosen family and spoke softly, his voice carrying through the hush of the clearing, "Dear friends, today we welcome two new members into our community. Treat them kindly as you would your other Jellicle brothers and sisters, and welcome them with open hearts."

He approached the two sisters and placed one paw on each of their shoulders, giving them a comforting squeeze. Taking Demeter's paw into both of his then, he leaned in close and said in a low voice, "You, my girl, have brightness about you. Allow it the space to grow. You will be happy here." Demeter smiled and tentatively brought one cheek to his arm. Old Deuteronomy responded by wrapping her up into a warm embrace, chuckling lightly with a pure affection until she laughed with him and lifted her head to part from his shaggy fur.

He then turned to Bombalurina and placed a paw to her cheek, the slashes running across it all but faded to thin lines which were hidden by the slight dust of fur there. He sighed deeply as he looked at her, and stared into her eyes for a long while. Bomba was surprised that she did not fidget. Something in his gentle gaze that seemed to penetrate right down to her everlasting core filled her with a stillness that made her ache. She had never felt so completely vulnerable, stripped of her defenses and yet absolutely secure, absolutely certain that she was safe and cared for.

"I see you, Bombalurina," he said, and for some reason those words choked her and made her eyes sting. He was silent for the length of a few more long breaths before continuing, "The road will be smoother going forward. Not free of troubles, but now there is time enough to rest." She wanted to look down, to blink back the burn under her eyelids, but his gaze held her. After a moment, his manner lightened and he leaned forward and pressed a fatherly kiss to her forehead.

He turned back to the crowd and walked to join the group, gesturing for the young queens to follow him. Cats approached all three and joyfully rubbed against them and exchanged embraces and spoke quiet words of welcome to the sisters and reverence to their beloved leader. A dance broke into their celebration, and they were whirled about in tandem with the rest of their new family as they sang a slow song of friendship and home under the moonlight.

* * *

Rum Tum Tugger peeked out from his hiding place behind the old tire, watching as Bomba sat and spoke with Rumpleteazer and Admetus lingered a few feet off pretended to nap. Every once in a while one of his eyes would open to fix on the scarlet queen as she answered the eager questions of the younger cat who giggled and rolled on her belly beside her.

"Rotter," he grumbled to himself, glaring at the brown tom who he felt was showing _far_ too much interest in Bombalurina.

"Why don't you just go talk to her, Rum?"

Tugger jumped with a surprised chirp as his brother clapped a paw onto his shoulder. He cleared his throat and thought about trying to deny watching her, but decided that it wasn't worth the effort. Munkus knew exactly what his brother was looking at, and any excuses would just sink him further into the indignity of his situation. "I was going to, but I don't know what to say. I don't want to muck it up again, I've made enough of a mess of things as it is."

Munkustrap nodded and looked out at the queen that Tugger was watching and made a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat, "I think Admetus is staring at her."

"He is, the rotter."

"Well then go and _talk_ to her, and you can stop thinking of ways to lure him to the top of a junk pile so that you can push him off."

Tugger sighed and rubbed his paw down his face. This was really getting ridiculous. No, it had gotten ridiculous quite a while ago. Now it was sad. "Alright," he said, "I'm going."

"Atta boy," Munkustrap said as he thumped his brother's back firmly, making Tugger grimace as he walked off. He took a deep breath and fluffed out his mane, arranging his expression to one of mild interest. His thumbs hooked into his belt and he swiped them back and forth before settling into a slow walk that tilted his pelvis and arched his back just slightly. Munkustrap rolled his eyes.

Tugger approached slowly, taking deep breaths. "Teazer," he said when he got within a comfortable distance, "Jellylorum's found a full can of whitefish and I hear that your brother is hogging your share," he looked at the smaller cat with a raised eyebrow and tipped his head in the direction of Jellylorum and Asparagus's den.

"That rat face!" she shrieked before bolting off, leaving Bomba to stare after her in shocked amusement at the sudden change in her new little friend.

"Well," she said, looking up at the maned tom, "that was certainly abrupt."

"She doesn't like Mungojerrie doing things without her. She does cuff him quite a lot, but the pair of them are inseperable." Tugger looked down and swallowed, gathering his wits. "Um, I'm sorry that we haven't spoken much. Busy times and that," he said as Bomba looked out on the junkyard full of sleeping and lazily playing cats. Across the way, Alonzo sneezed.

"Yes," she said quietly, resting her paws on her knees and looking up at him.

Tugger dropped down quickly before he could lose his nerve and sat near her, putting himself directly in Admetus's line of sight with some satisfaction. He heard a quiet huff from somewhere in the other tom's direction, and it puffed him up enough to smile at her. Her eyes crinkled in a shy smile in response, and she tucked her knees up and rested her chin on them.

"So what brought you to the junkyard?" he said before he could think better of it, belatedly remembering the injuries that had marred her face when she first had arrived.

Bomba winced slightly, darting her eyes away, "We were… Well, our mother died when we were very young. We've been on our own since then. There was this tom who…" she shifted uncomfortably and cleared her throat, "We had to find a place to hide and came here. Everyone has been so nice to us," she said, taking a deep breath and smiling at him again.

Tugger mirrored her position, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms loosely around them. He thought about his life up until that point and how alone he'd always felt, and tried to imagine what it would be like to really have no one, to have to fend for himself. He couldn't. "I'm sorry," he said.

"Don't be," she responded quietly. Her brow furrowed and she turned her head a little to the side, looking off into the distance for a moment. When she turned back to him she was smiling again, but the sadness still hung wearily in her eyes.

Tugger nodded faintly, but felt a slow ache build in his chest for her. He had no idea what she'd been through, and all of a sudden she became more real to him. She had _been through_ something. Something that had left her with this heaviness and had brought her running desperately to his home, looking for shelter. He wanted to know what she was running from, and everything else about her.

Before he knew what he was doing, Tugger had reached his paw out to intertwine with hers. She startled and looked at him with shock for only a few moments before her fingers tightened slowly around his. She stared at their clasped paws in wonderment, and he held his breath for a moment before she gave him a slightly watery smile.

"I've never had a tom do that before," she said, swallowing down a laugh that bubbled through for a brief moment.

"I've… never done it before."

She laughed again, this time a little more harshly. Looking heavenward, she let out a slow breath and shook her head. Tugger was confused by her reaction and watched her as she continued to stare upwards as she spoke, "I forget sometimes that I never got to be young."

This confused him further. He'd thought that she was about his age, had he been wrong? "What do you mean?"

She looked at him then, "I just… It's been hard, you know? Things were hard. There wasn't enough food, and sometimes, you'd just do anything to eat something, to stay safe, to stay alive," She looked at him as though she were pleading with him to understand the things that she was not saying. He wanted to so very badly, and his grip on her paw tightened.

Bomba took a deep breath and then seemed to force herself to relax. She looked up at him and smiled again, then shakily huffed out, "It's alright, it's better now. Everything is better," She squeezed his paw back and cleared her throat. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be dramatic."

"No, it's alright," he responded, tilting his head at her in thought. Whatever had happened, it seemed that she didn't want to tell him, at least not yet. _Not yet_ , he thought. Tugger very much hoped that there would be a time when she would tell him anything.

They sat paws twined together and speaking softly to one another until night came upon them and Bombalurina regretfully left to find her bed. Tugger sat in the clearing for some time after, staring out over the empty spaces. When he finally stood to make his way back to his den he smiled to himself and hummed absently, feeling light and springy and wondering what tomorrow would be like.

* * *

Weeks went by and the nights grew long and frigid. Tugger had spent most of his days with Bombalurina, hunting with her, walking with her around the perimeter of the fence or finding a blanket to sit back in while they conversed lightly, every once in a while a fleeting touch passing between them. By mid-winter they were known to be close friends and many suspected the romance blossoming between them, their affection plain to any observer. He had taken to giving her small gifts—finding food for her, a collar that matched one he'd found for himself, a new blanket for the den that she and Demeter now shared.

One afternoon on the far side of the yard, they laughed and picked over junk piles together. Tugger moved the flaps on a cardboard box aside, finding within a mess of once-white mesh and frills, small baskets, candle holders and ribbon. Towards the bottom of the box he found an old suit jacket, navy blue and shabby with age. A flash of bright red among the rumpled blue caught his eye and he delved his paw down to find the delicate rosette coming loose from the lapel. He turned to Bomba, flashing her a pleased grin as he handed her the silk flower.

"It's your color," he said as she smiled down at the cloth petals that matched her fur. He reached down again while she was distracted, pulling a thin white ribbon from the frothy gown that remained spilling out from the box. "Here, wait." Tugger lifted the ribbon to her neck, wrapping it loosely under her collar to hang down by her chest. He tied a small bow in the ribbon and left the ends to flutter free down to her stomach.

"Thank you," she said simply, touching the little bow and looking up at him.

Tugger felt his heart speed up at the sight of her, standing close to his chest and staring at him while wearing his simple gifts. His throat tightened and he wanted to say something, _anything_ , but all he could do was stare. He lifted one paw to smooth back the fur on her cheek, brushing over the faint bumps that were the only sign left of her previous injuries. She still hadn't told him of the events that had led to her and her sister stumbling into their home, and his heart clenched at the thought.

"You're very beautiful," he told her finally. She smiled and looked down, embarrassedly breaking eye contact. Tugger moved his paw to the back of her head, and she looked up again, leaning closer into him. Her breath tickled his cheek and the warm, feminine scent of her made him lightheaded.

Bomba hesitantly dropped her hand from the ribbon and wound her arms around his slim waist, still clutching the rosette between her fingers. Tugger wrapped his other arm around her back, holding her tightly to him and breathing her in deeply as he closed his eyes and leaned down towards her.

Bombalurina sighed and shifted her head to lie against his chest, rubbing her cheek against his mane, much fuller now than it had been even when she had first met him. He opened his eyes and looked at the top of her head with a slight twinge of nervous disappointment. His forehead dropped forward and rested upon the sleek red fur there, the paw that had stroked her cheek now moving to rub slow circles into her back.

Her warmth was a stark contrast to the biting chill of the air, and Tugger shivered. Bomba's paw moved up his back and into his mane behind his neck.

"It's exactly as soft as I imagined it to be," she said, making a soft humming noise as she breathed out.

"What is?"

"Your mane," she raised her head just enough to look him in the eye, smiling softly.

Tugger held her more firmly to him, something winding tightly inside of his stomach and making his heart jump. He placed his paw back onto her cheek and guided her face up before slowly, hesitantly, lowering his lips to hers. Bomba stilled and his breath caught. She was tense, and he wondered for a moment if he had made a mistake.

Slowly, her muscles relaxed and she sighed out through her nose, leaning into him and slanting her head a little as her eyes fluttered closed. He tentatively moved his lips over hers, pressing more firmly and was encouraged when she responded in kind. The kiss was slow and lingering, and when they parted and looked at one another, their smiles were shy and knowing. Their paws linked and they walked slowly for the rest of the evening, stealing glances and keeping quiet companionship.

* * *

A/N: Hey there fellow CATS lovers! Don't think that this is wrapping up here- it can't be that easy, can it? But all the same, we'll have a nice little (Tuggurina? Bombalugger? Rum Tum Urina? Rumurina? Tuggabomb? None of these things sound pleasant) interlude.

Thanks to the newcomers to the review pool (Cats90, Andjeah, Mockingjay500, Peaches-hime), and to the faithful (Hey there, Quiffin! *wave*). Really appreciate you guys!


	9. Nine: Tugger and Bombalurina

A/N: Fluffy like a whole _basket_ full of Persian kittens.

* * *

Demeter watched her sister groom herself, humming happily.

"It's nice outside."

Bomba looked up, smiling gently and glanced towards the opening in their den. "It is. Have anything planned?"

"Not at all." Demeter sighed and stretched languidly, looking up at Bombalurina with a smile. Bomba chuckled and continued to straighten the fur around her ears. They sat in silence for a few minutes more, watching the dust motes dance in the sunlight and listening to the soft sounds of movement just outside. "It's nice having nothing to do," Demeter observed, rolling onto her back and stretching out one hind paw to brush Bomba's nose.

Bombalurina hummed in agreement, still occupied with fluffing and smoothing her fur. She rubbed back her cheeks, mussed her ears and then swiped the fur back again. "What?" she said when Demeter stared at her openly, mischief quirking her tail and raising her brow.

"Getting awfully vain in our old age, aren't we?"

"I'm sure that I have no idea what you mean."

Demeter laughed. "You've been grooming all morning."

"So?"

" _So_ , you look perfect already. Go find him," Demeter smiled at Bomba, resting her head on one paw.

Bombalurina stopped, paw mid-air on the way up to her ear once again. She sank down next to her sister, hiding her face in the golden queen's shoulder. "Oh, Deme," she said, not bothering to protest Demeter's assumptions, "I hardly know what to do with myself."

"What do you mean?" Deme asked, stroking her sister's cheek and allowing her head to rest on Bomba's crooked elbow.

"It's so strange. I don't know if I'm doing this right."

"Doing what right?"

Bomba bit her lip, trying to order her thoughts, make them coherent enough to explain herself. "I'm not really sure what we're doing. I don't know what this is," she touched her collar briefly, thinking of the shy way in which he'd presented it to her. "He's just… _nice_ to me. I feel like I'm supposed to be giving something back to him, but he doesn't get angry with me when I don't. I guess I just keep thinking that he's going to get tired of waiting," Bomba averted her gaze worriedly.

"Bomby, I don't think he's going to get angry with you for that."

"Why not?"

" _Because_ , Bomby. This isn't a business transaction. He _likes_ you. Look," she said, pointing at the soft silk rose resting against Bombalurina's pillow, "He gives you things. He likes spending time with you. Just spend time with him back."

Bombalurina stared at the rosette and felt herself smile with the warm memory that it elicited. "He kissed me, you know."

" _What_?! You didn't tell me that!" Demeter laughed, rolling on top of her sister and tickling her ribs. "I told you he liked you! How many toms have kissed you before?"

"None," Bomba sighed, calming with the realization that no matter what her experiences in the past had shown her, not all toms would see her as a means to an end. She was more than that, and Tugger knew it. He wanted more from her than a romp in an alleyway.

"Go find him, Bomby," Demeter said, nudging her sister up back into a sitting position and pushing her towards the opening in their den. Bombalurina laughed and looked at Demeter gratefully before turning her face to the sunlight and crawling out into the clearing.

* * *

Bombalurina found him napping on the back seat of the old car. Once she spotted Tugger through the window, she quietly toed her way into the musty space and crept onto the floor. Bomba peeked up at him and watched the slow movement of his breath under the sunspot that dappled his fur with brilliant golds and lent a richness to the sheen of his black body. It was only slightly warmer in the car than outside of it, but he looked so completely at ease that she imagined he must have some internal source of heat beyond what was usual and that it _must_ have been what made her desire to curl against him in his slumber. Yes, In fact, she thought that she felt that heat radiating off of him just to warm her face, making her lean into him, breathe in to catch his scent.

Tugger stretched suddenly, yawning and settling again without waking. He ended up on his back, one paw stretched above his head and the other resting on his stomach, head tilted just to the edge of the seat. His cheek pressed into the cushion as he tilted his nose in her direction, scenting her in his sleep and smiling softly. Seeing this left a tightness in Bomba's chest, and she leaned in and nuzzled the side of his jaw.

She felt him jump, turning his face towards her and capturing her lips as he made a small, satisfied sound in the back of his throat. Bomba laughed against his mouth as he tugged her up onto the seat with him, allowing his paws to roam her back and settle on the swell of her hips. His lips followed hers up as she pulled back to look at him, only falling away when she was too far to reach. Bright blue eyes opened softly to her as his head landed, smiling sleepily up as he sighed and brought a paw to her neck and stroked her jaw with his thumb.

"Hello," he said.

"Hello," she replied, biting her lip shyly.

"I've missed you, you know."

"You saw me yesterday," she said, laughing.

"Yes, but that was _yesterday_ , and today is a whole day _after_ yesterday." Tugger leaned up into the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply again and trying to pull her back down.

Bomba snuggled into his mane and ran her fingers through it, making him relax back and sigh again contentedly. "This has gotten full. Where did it come from, anyway? Your father and brother don't have manes."

"Hmm? Oh, mother was a Maine Coon. Munkus doesn't take after her much. I got the good fur genes, obviously."

"Obviously," she said, rubbing her face into his soft ruff again.

"I have another brother, but he's quite a bit older. He left when Munkus and I were only kits. Doesn't look a thing like us, he had a different mother."

"Why did he leave?"

"Oh, well. I'm not _completely_ sure," he said, tensing a bit, "but I know that he and father had quite a falling-out. Macavity was never kind to anyone. He used to treat me and Munku horridly. "

Bombalurina felt her breath rush out of her. Macavity? _Macavity_ was Tugger's brother? Her heart stuttered painfully and sped, adrenaline making her body tight and anxious. She froze, fingers stopping their languid movements.

Tugger continued, oblivgious to her quiet panic, "I… He used to pick on me especially, because I was so small. Used to tell me that I was smaller than a rat and that if I bothered him he would catch me for his dinner. Munku tells me that he caught him once, choking me. I think that was the first big row that he and father had, after he did that. I don't remember it, but sometimes I wonder if…"

She fisted her paw in his fur suddenly, unable to breath. He couldn't know. She couldn't ever let him know that she'd met Macavity, been touched by him. What would he think of her? How much pain would it cause him to know that she'd been tainted by him? Would he feel betrayed, she wondered, disgusted? If she was worried that he'd think her a slag before, this was far beyond that.

He squeezed the paw which clutched at his mane, and she thought for certain that somehow he knew, someone had told him or she had said it aloud just then. "I'm so sorry," she breathed out shakily, not knowing what else to say and hoping desperately that he wouldn't push her away in revulsion.

"It's alright," he said softly, "it was a long time ago," and she realized that he thought she'd meant that she was sorry _for_ him, for the abuse that he'd endured at his long since estranged brother's paws. She shook with relief and clung to him. Of course he didn't know. How _could_ he? "Anyway, I suppose it doesn't matter why he left. A lot of cats come and go."

"Do they?" she asked, grateful for the change in subject.

"Yes, well. I think I've told you before that most of the cats here in the village are strays. Only a few of us were born in the yard. Some of them have human families as well."

"Oh? Like who?"

"Cassandra has humans that she visits. Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer might, but no one actually knows where those two came from. I'm not even sure if they live here properly. Gus used to a long time ago, before he met Asparagus' mother. She left when I was quite young, too. Poor old Gus, crushed him to the bone. I've been told that's when his mind started to go."

"That's terrible."

"I know. Jellylorum says that she was selfish. Didn't like being settled down so she left her family to go back to whatever it was that she used to do, dancing or theater or something. Miss Jelly's quite bitter about it, actually. Feels like she was left to pick up the pieces. "

Bomba breathed deeply, calming more as they gained distance from the subject of Macavity. They lay together in the car a while longer, allowing the conversation to lighten until only a comfortable silence was left. Bomba remained tucked against his shoulder, and Tugger's arms had wrapped around her tightly. Their shared body heat and the early afternoon sun made a cozy space in the car, and after a few long minutes of enjoying the feel of each other, Tugger slipped back into sleep. Bomba listened to the soft sounds of his deep, even breaths and felt his chest rise and fall under her head. The rhythmic movements and the now familiar scent of him relaxed her until she felt herself following him into a long, peaceful nap.

* * *

"What? Wha—"

Tugger's eyes darted to the movement, narrowing when the object that had skittered across his path abruptly disappeared.

"Hmm."

He stared intently at the spot where it had just been, hunching his shoulders and bracing his paws on his knees as he squatted low to the ground, waiting. Nothing happened.

"Alright, then," he said, standing slowly and turning his face away, eyes following reluctantly. "Ha-!"

The dishwasher rattled as he pounced up against it, paws scrabbling at the… thing… that was back again. It floated up to a spot against the dishwasher that was _just_ out of his reach. He glared and it shuddered a little in response. It was _mocking_ him.

"Now see here," he said, and it disappeared again. Tugger backed up slowly, ducking behind an old boot and waiting. He felt his back arch, and this time when the spot appeared again on the dishwasher, he waited. He felt his haunches tense and gave them a little preparatory wiggle, and if he heard a soft laugh somewhere behind him he could not be bothered to glance in its direction. This was _far_ too important.

He let the dot be for a moment, lulling it into a false sense of security. After it had been still for some time, he made his move. Tugger gave an impressive leap, letting out a quick, triumphant yelp and promptly colliding face-first with the dishwasher. He stumbled back and landed in the dirty, melting snow. The dot had disappeared again.

Hearty feminine laughter broke through his stunned state and brought him back to his surroundings. Before he could drag himself up from the ground, a blur of red fell on top of him in a wiggly, breathless heap. He spared a thought for his dignity before her warmth seeped past his fur, leading him to discover that he could not make himself care for his pride in the face of a smiling, shifting Bombalurina lying atop him and smelling so heady and sweet.

"You should have seen yourself! You just _went_ for it and you were _so_ fixated and your _face_ —" she buried her face in his stomach, giggling hysterically and gasping for air. Bomba took a few deep, wheezing breaths that sounded a bit painful and tried to speak again, only to succeed in producing more helpless laughter. She handed him a large metal tube, and he took it absently, preferring to focus on the sensation of her breath on him and her fur under his fingers where he had placed them on the side of her head.

Bomba gave one last strangled laugh before forcefully calming herself, looking up into his face with mirthful tears in her eyes. She sighed and hugged his middle, rubbing her chin on his chest.

"Would you care to tell me what that was?"

"Rumpleteazer brought it to me. Look," she said, grabbing back the metal tube. He looked at it and noticed it for the first time only as she took it from his paw, pointing it back at the dishwasher and rising to lean her full weight against a button on the side. It startled him as it clicked, and for a moment he was distracted by the noise until she poked his shoulder and directed him to the red dot that appeared back on the surface of the appliance. He tensed and chattered, and she clicked it off before he could jump to pursue it again.

"Don't _do_ that!"

"Why not?" she asked innocently, clicking it on again. His head snapped back to the dot and he chattered more frantically, feeling his muscles bunch to attack. Bomba clicked it off.

"Stop that," he demanded, trying to pull the tube out from under her. She had the advantage in position though, and blocked his advance. Click.

Tugger jumped back, pupils dilating and tail flicking frantically. Click.

He wrestled Bomba to the ground, finally stealing away the tube. "That is _not_ funny."

"Yes it is," she said on a repressed laugh, bending her head to her knees in an effort to contain herself.

"You're a wicked thing, Bomba," he said, finally smiling. She stopped laughing and her smile gradually dimmed until it was just a quiet shadow of humor. He felt a bit of anxiety, wondering if he'd said the wrong thing, but she stood and put her paw out to him to pull him to his own feet. When they were both upright, she linked her arm through his and smiled more brightly, hefting the tube in her free paw.

"Want to go make Plato squirm?"

His expression changed to one of wild and unconstrained glee. "Yes," he said vehemently, "Yes, I do."

They walked off arm in arm and did just that.

* * *

Munkustrap sat on the old tire, watching the movement in the yard contentedly. Today had been a good day. He'd gone patrolling with Asparagus and Skimbleshanks, found a sizable family of voles living under a sheet of tin siding, and passed the evening pleasantly conversing with Demeter. She was lovely, he thought. A little shy at first, but had a really warm personality once she was more comfortable with you.

His ears perked when he heard someone jump onto the tire behind him, quietly welcoming his brother to sit with him. "Busy day?" Tugger asked, leaning back on his paws and letting his hind feet dangle and sway in front of him.

Munkus looked at the cat next to him, observing the easy tilt of his head and the serene smile on his face. His eyes were closed as he faced the sky, waiting for his answer but enjoying the cool air that tickled his whiskers. "Not too bad. Everyone seems calm today. I think the warmer weather is putting them in a good mood."

"Mm," Tugger responded, accepting his answer and breathing in the calm of the approaching sunset.

The grey tabby looked forward, taking a deep breath of his own and considering the ease with which he and Tugger had gotten along lately. He couldn't remember the last time they'd argued, and Tugger had more and more come to seek him out just to sit in comfortable silence or ask him about his day.

It was nice seeing him so content. This winter had produced a lot of changes in him. In the both of them, really. They'd both grown taller and more mature, but Tugger had definitely undergone the more dramatic of transformations. His mane had grown in with the cold, and he'd experienced a growth spurt that left him towering above every other cat in the tribe. He'd even filled out some and was more long and lean that skinny and gangly, and he finally seemed comfortable in his own body.

"You know," Tugger said, "I think it's going to be a good summer."

Munkus smiled and leaned back, uncrossing his legs and mirroring Tugger's stance. "I think so too, Rum."

They watched the sunset together, not another word needed between them.

* * *

A/N: So, I'm not sure If I've made this clear enough (and in this fandom I'm sure it's not a given), but I'm basing their development on the actual life cycle of cats. Generally the life stages are: Kitten 0-6 months (human equivalent about 10 years at 6 mo), Junior cat 6 mo-2 yrs (12-24), Prime 3-6 yrs (28-40), past that are senior and geriatric cats, which is not really relevant.

At the start of this story I imagined our main characters to be just ending their kitten stage, and through the winter in probably their first year of life. They'll be about two by the end of the summer, and entering their prime come next winter. So at this point I'm imagining that they're about the equivalent of seventeen or eighteen years old. Cats with manes grow them at different times even within the same breed, but generally over the course of their junior stage. most frequently, they grow what's called a "winter mane" which grows- as you can guess- over the course of a winter. Some cats lose them in the summer and grow them back again during winter months, some maintain them consistently thereafter. Maine Coons generally keep them.

So there we have it. Ta!


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